


Thaw

by indyamy



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-05
Updated: 2014-12-05
Packaged: 2018-02-28 05:33:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2720597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indyamy/pseuds/indyamy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blackwall resigns himself to stopping his relationship with the Inquisitor, but she persuades him to do otherwise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thaw

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own nor have any claim to anything to do with Dragon Age, but the characters are so damn sexy I couldn't resist. My first fanfic, so no beta. Enjoy!

The air in the mountains had grown frigid without the warmth of the daytime sun, but Blackwall hardly noticed. He did not mind the cold. His life, such as it was, had not always afforded him the luxury of warmth. He had been walking the ramparts for over an hour, thinking about what he would say to her. He didn’t know if he would ever truly find the words, but this could go on no longer. He had told her as much, on these very ramparts. He told her how they must stay focused on winning the battle, that they could not afford to be distracted while their enemy hunted them. He supposed that was the truth, though he wished that it was not. But his words seemed to fall on deaf ears. She continued to seek him out in the stables, amongst the smell of shite and hay and heated iron. Her eyes were always focused when she spoke to him, never leaving his face. He had allowed himself to hope that they could be more than what they were, and hope was a dangerous thing.

She was the Inquisitor, the Herald of Andraste. The one who would use her powers to deliver all of Thedus from whatever magic was tearing apart the sky. She had power beyond measure, and beauty beyond all reason. And still, she came to him, singled him out to be worthy of her attention. Blackwall knew that on this count she was wrong. He was not a man worthy of her; he knew he could never bring her happiness. He done terrible things for which he could never forgive himself, and he would not burden her with the weight of his failings.

He took in a sharp breath of the biting air and quickly exhaled. He would tell her that this, whatever they had, was done. No emotion, no explanation. He would say he wanted nothing more to do with her beyond the Inquisition. It would be over, and he could pay his penance by giving his life to the Inquisition without hesitation. He walked to the heavy wooden door leading to the keep. The main room had quieted and emptied since sundown, allowing him to go mercifully unnoticed toward her chambers. He pushed the door to the antechamber open and walked down the hallway to where he was sure she would be. He steeled himself, knocked twice, then opened her door.

His resolve immediately faltered. She was sitting by the fire, dressed only in her tan leather under armor, perfectly cut to her body. She rose from her chair. The amber light of the fire made her features seem softer than normal. She smiled, that warm, penetrating smile that had left him grasping for words on so many occasions. “Blackwall, what a pleasant surprise. Please, join me,” she gestured toward the fire.

“I cannot, Inquisitor,” he replied brusquely. “This must end.”

“As you have told me,” she responded as she crossed the room to meet him. “And as I have told you, I wholeheartedly disagree.”

“This will not end well for you, my lady,” he responded. His blue eyes pleaded with her to be merciful and not make him continue. He was having trouble finding words as he searched her eyes for understanding.

“Do you have knowledge of the future that I lack?” she asked lightheartedly, her eyes never leaving his. “We cannot know the future, Blackwall. We do not know what tomorrow may bring. Either of us could fall in battle tomorrow,” she said, her face growing solemn briefly before softening again. “I want to live whatever days I have left without regret.” She was close to him now. So close he could feel the warmth radiating from her.

“You will regret this, if we continue,” was all he could muster in reply. His resolve was cracking and crumbling around him. He wanted her. Maker preserve him, he ached for her, but he would not reach for her. That was the only resistance he could offer.

Her gaze never wavered. She smiled softly before raising her face to his, her lips hot against his, still chilled from the cold. “I will never regret you.”

Blackwall’s lips could not form the words he wanted to say. They could not bring more protests, more reasons for the Inquisitor to forget him. Instead, they found their way back to hers, silently begging the Maker to make her right.

His kiss was more insistent than he intended, but she responded in kind. His face burned from her warmth, driving his passion harder. He wrapped his hands around her waist, pressing her closer to him. She slid her hands to the back of his neck, her fingers lacing through his black hair to press his face even closer to hers. Her kisses grew hungrier. She drew breath quicker, and Blackwall could feel her chest rise and fall against his. She arched her back, pressing her breasts against his quilted jacket. He groaned with desire. He could feel her smile against his lips. She tilted her hips toward his, and she moaned softly as she rubbed against his swollen member, only scraps of leather keeping him from her. 

She pulled her body backward, urging him toward her bed, without allowing her lips to leave his. He followed eagerly. She brought her hands from his neck to his chest, her fingers hastily working to unlace the leather binding of his jacket. His hand moved to the small of her back and slipped under her shirt, his cold hands eliciting a gasp from her. “Too cold?” he asked, his face still close to hers.

“Never,” she whispered to his lips. She stopped fumbling with his jacket and quickly removed her shirt. She guided his hand to her breast and moaned at the contact. Blackwall could feel her nipple harden instantly. He kissed her more urgently and damn near ripped his jacket in two pulling it from his body, angry that it required use of a hand that could be touching the softest skin he had ever known. He released her only to shrug off the offending jacket, then slid his arm around her waist to press her body to his. She was breathing even quicker, her breasts rubbing against the hair on his chest with every breath. His body was on fire for her. She pulled him down to the bed, wrapping her legs around his hips. She pressed her cheek to his. "I want you," she pleaded softly.

"Then you shall have me."

His words had the desired effect. A choked sigh escaped her lips, and he could feel the muscles of her stomach quiver. Blackwall swept his hand down to her hip, catching her waistband and continuing down the length of her leg. He went to his knees. She was naked before him, her skin still aglow from the firelight. She was exquisite.

He quickly removed his own trousers and lowered himself down to her. His eyes burned into hers as he entered her. Her lips crashed to his as her hips ground against him. She was already slick with desire. Blackwall tried to focus, to extend the encounter, but he was enraptured by her obvious passion for him. He pulled himself in and out of her slowly, going as deep as he could, savoring the sensation and her stuttered sighs. He increased his pace as her breaths grew shallow. She was so close and he could barely contain himself. Faster, deeper he went until she threw her head back in ecstasy. He lost himself inside her with a deep, low groan.

He slid his body beside hers as they lay breathless. She turned to face him, kissing him gently before moving her head to his shoulder and falling asleep with her hand over his heart, lost in the sea of black hair on his chest. His hand closed over hers, and he closed his eyes, welcoming his first peaceful sleep in years.  
**  
The morning seemed to come too soon, sun shining in from the tall windows of the Inquisitor's chambers. The fireplace glowed faintly, the evening’s embers still burning. Blackwall adjusted his eyes to the light and looked down at her, the sunlight highlighting the soft curves of her body. Maker help him, he loved her, and so he swore, in that moment, that he would spend the rest of his sorry life doing whatever it took to be worthy of her. Her eyes fluttered, and she awoke, a happy,sleepy smile brightening her face at the sight of him. “I am so glad you stayed,” she whispered, touching his cheek. He kissed her and prayed to the Maker that he would never have to leave.


End file.
